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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29407608">incandescent</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/caandlelit/pseuds/caandlelit'>caandlelit</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arguing, Banter, Childhood Friends, Coming of Age, DC Comics References, First Meetings, Kid Fic, M/M, Marvel References, Reunions, Tenderness, happy birthday panini i lvoeu, tender meaningful swing pushing, wow . detective comics comics references. nice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:42:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,315</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29407608</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/caandlelit/pseuds/caandlelit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>‘Excuse me,’ Takahiro announces politely. ‘You’re in the swing.’<br/></p>
</blockquote>takahiro meets matsukawa issei at age seven and he slips out of his grasp. it takes nineteen years for them to meet again
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hanamaki Takahiro &amp; Matsukawa Issei, Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>150</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>incandescent</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthtogauva/gifts">earthtogauva</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is for gauri . i adore you, you're fucking amazing, you deserve to be on top of the world and completely incandescently happy . i hope you like this babe &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>✵</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro is seven and he sits at the top of the slide.</p><p> </p><p>From this high up, he can see the whole park, he feels like a king, he has the world at his fingertips.</p><p> </p><p>His nails are painted sparkly because his sister left her nail polish on the living room table and he couldn’t help himself. His father had spent ten minutes scolding him but they’d had to go to the park and hadn’t had enough time for him to peel it off.</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro didn’t want to peel it off anyway. It looks nice.</p><p> </p><p>He’s at the top of the slide. The wind is on his face and his fringe is blown off his eyes and he can <em>see </em>everything around him. Everything is beneath him. Takahiro’s glad <em>he </em>doesn’t have glasses. Yuki-nee has glasses and he calls her a nerd. If he had glasses, he wouldn’t be able to do that anymore.</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro’s at the top of the slide for two more minutes before the snot-nosed loser behind him gets sick of waiting and shoves him down.</p><p> </p><p>He lies in the sandbox afterwards, feels cool sweat on his face, and wishes he could live at the top of the slide forever and never have to come down.</p><p> </p><p>His favorite thing at any park is always the one that takes him highest. He’d liked the slide because it felt like a castle, and he was the king of the whole world for five glorious minutes. He likes the seesaw too, cause it goes up, but it always goes back down again, and he really dislikes sharing. He doesn’t like the sandbox. Sand gets in his toes and makes his skin itch.</p><p> </p><p>But the swing. It’s the best thing at every park and Takahiro will sit for hours, he doesn’t even need anyone to push him because he’s tall for his age and his feet reach the ground and he can kick himself high, high, high. It’s especially the best thing at the big park near their house in Tokyo.</p><p> </p><p>He begs for a week before they finally go back to the big park near their house in Tokyo. But god, it’s worth it.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>✵</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro rushes through the rusty gold park gates and his mother laughs apologetically at the guard as he whirls past her and glasses-nerd big sister Yuki and baby Rei in her little cradle and goes straight for the swing. </p><p> </p><p>His feet skid to a stop and sand flies into the face of the person sitting on the swing.</p><p> </p><p>There’s someone sitting on his swing.</p><p> </p><p>‘Excuse me,’ Takahiro announces politely. ‘You’re in the swing.’</p><p> </p><p>The person, it’s a boy, a boy with lots of curly dark hair and thick cute eyebrows, he looks up and furrows his thick cute eyebrows at Takahiro very hard.</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro doesn’t have caterpillar eyebrows like him but he furrows them back anyways.</p><p> </p><p>‘I know,’ the boy says simply. He wipes the sand off his forehead. </p><p> </p><p>‘Hm,’ Takahiro says irritably. ‘Why are you in the swing?’</p><p> </p><p>‘Why are your eyebrows so small?’ he replies. </p><p> </p><p>Takahiro feels a little blank for a few seconds and then he says, ‘I’m going to push you off. I <em>mean</em>,’ he says hastily, panicking, ‘I’m going to push you.’</p><p> </p><p>‘Off?’ says the boy, his eyes crinkling as he starts to smile.</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro feels his ears heat up and he crosses his arms angrily. </p><p> </p><p><em>‘No</em>,’ he stresses. <em>‘Just </em>push you.’</p><p> </p><p>‘Push me… off the swing?’ says the boy, like he’s trying to irritate the hell out of Takahiro.</p><p> </p><p>His cheeks are brown and he has <em>two </em>dimples. Takahiro wishes he could dig his thumbs into them. His eyes are really pretty. His neon green Hulk t-shirt, Takahiro bemoans, is <em>super </em>ugly.</p><p> </p><p>‘See,’ Takahiro says very politely, ‘I wasn’t <em>really </em>going to push you off the swing but now I will, because it’s my swing and you’re acting mean and dumb.’</p><p> </p><p>‘I amn’t acting,’ the boy replies, kicking his feet at the air as he swings, faster than he was before, like he’s taunting Takahiro. ‘I’m actually dumb and you’re the mean one for being so rude to me.’</p><p> </p><p>‘Amn’t is a made up word,’ Takahiro says gently. And he feels bad, just a bit, so he adds guiltily, ‘And you’re probably not dumb.’</p><p> </p><p>The boy shrugs, and his curls bounce. ‘All words are made up. And thanks.’</p><p> </p><p>‘No problem,’ Takahiro says, ‘now can I have my swing.’</p><p> </p><p>The boy tilts his head. ‘Does it have your name on it?’</p><p> </p><p>‘Can I have my swing, please,’ Takahiro says clear and loud.</p><p> </p><p>The boy cups his ear and says, ‘Sorry what? I didn’t hear you from down there.’</p><p> </p><p>‘Okay,’ Takahiro says decisively. ‘You were right. You <em>are</em> dumb.’</p><p> </p><p>The boy grins widely at him, and says, ‘Thank you. What’s my reward for winning?’</p><p> </p><p>‘You’re not getting no reward from me,’ Takahiro tells him. ‘I think I hate you. Can’t give rewards to people you hate.’ It sounds very reasonable to him.</p><p> </p><p>The boy laughs so hard he almost falls off the swing and his curly curly hair gets in his dark eyes and Takahiro’s ears are burning pink but he’s beaming too, even though he wants to keep his face blank and unbothered like his mother’s always is.</p><p> </p><p>The boy digs his feet into the sandy soil and his swinging comes to a stop. </p><p> </p><p>‘Okay,’ he says. The sun is bright white hot and Takahiro has been in the park for less than ten minutes but he’s already pink with sweat.</p><p> </p><p>‘You can have the swing,’ the boy says, and hops off the seat, and gestures at it grandly.</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro immediately sits down on the swing and wraps his fingers around the warm spot where the boy’s fingers just were. The boy grins down at him. He’s taller than Takahiro. </p><p> </p><p>‘Why?’ Takahiro asks. </p><p> </p><p>‘Aren’t you supposed to say thank you?’ the boy says, his smile wide, wide, wide.</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro reaches up and pulls his curly hair and says, ‘Thank you,’ very sweetly, though he can’t even hear himself over the sound of the boy’s high pitched yelp.</p><p> </p><p>He bats Takahiro’s hand off and frowns at him, but his eyes are still bright and pretty and Takahiro didn’t pull that hard and doesn’t think he’s mad, so he beams up at him in response.</p><p> </p><p>‘You’re very pretty,’ the boy tells him. ‘And I like your nails.’</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro’s cheeks go just a little pink and he says thank you without being asked this time, and the boy’s face splits wide in that smile and those dimples that Takahiro decides, he will poke his fingers into. Within the hour, at least. He <em>needs </em>to.</p><p> </p><p>‘Your t-shirt is lame,’ he informs the boy.</p><p> </p><p>He looks down at it and Takahiro takes the change to reach up to ruffle his hair, feet swinging back and forth.</p><p> </p><p>‘What’s wrong with the Hulk?’ he asks. </p><p> </p><p>Takahiro straightens up and says, ‘<em>Thank you</em>,’ and the boy laughs, ‘for asking. He’s boring.’</p><p> </p><p>The boy nods slowly. ‘Alright,’ he says agreeably. ‘The stupid-big monster who’s really a genius with a billion PHDs is boring.’</p><p> </p><p>He says H like <em>ech, </em>instead of <em>aich. </em>Takahiro kicks him in the side and repeats, ‘He’s boring.’</p><p> </p><p>‘But,’ the boy says, ‘he’s green.’</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro considers this, and then shrugs. ‘Okay. And? So is Green Lantern.’</p><p> </p><p>‘Who?’ the boy says, and Takahiro says, ‘I’m going to take the seat of this swing and beat you up with it.’</p><p> </p><p>The boy laughs again, really hard and loud and the sun makes his hair look shiny and pretty.</p><p> </p><p>‘I’m sorry, I was joking,’ he says, eyes all crinkly. ‘I really like Green Lantern.’</p><p> </p><p>‘Okay. You can push me then,’ he says generously.</p><p> </p><p>‘Off?’ the boy asks, eyes bright, and Takahiro kicks him again, harder this time and he just laughs.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>✵</p><p> </p><p>He pushes him till Takahiro is flying up high and wishing he could let go of the chain and soar in the air like a kite.</p><p> </p><p>He talks all the while about how he loves Green Lantern and Hulk but he thinks the Flash and Black Widow are way cooler, and his favorite hero is Spiderman, and Takahiro tells him he can stop pushing, and that Spiderman is <em>his </em>favorite hero and he can’t have him.</p><p> </p><p>His name is Issei, and he pushes him till the bright white hot sun is going down and Takahiro’s mother is calling out to him.</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro almost cries when he has to go, and his mother sighs and lets him stay five extra minutes to say goodbye to Issei, who actually cries, and they hug very tight and Takahiro gets a wet spot on his shoulder and he gives Takahiro a toffee that was in his pocket.</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro actually starts crying then, and clings to Issei so tight his mother has to gently tug him off.</p><p> </p><p>He makes Issei recite his mother’s number to his own mother, who writes it down on the back of some card in her wallet. Issei is called out to by his dad, who Takahiro glares at until his mother tells him to be polite. Issei kisses his cheek before he goes.</p><p> </p><p>He waves at Issei when they’re separating streets, and Issei waves back dolefully, his face covered in tears and sweat. He mouths, <em>I love you.</em></p><p> </p><p>Takahiro hiccups and mouths it back. The last thing he sees of him is Issei’s shiny, pretty curls bouncing as he gets into his car.</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro didn’t get to poke the dimples, and he remembers that when he’s in the car, and cries a bit more. His mother rolls her eyes in the front seat. Yuki-nee gives him the Hershey’s chocolate kiss in her pocket and he goes home tired and tearstained with chocolate all over his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>The other swing, that Takahiro had ignored in favor of the one the pretty boy was already sitting on, remains empty and still long after they’ve both gone home.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>✵</p><p> </p><p>As the story goes, his mother loses the business card she wrote Issei’s mother’s number on, and Takahiro cries on and off for a week, and makes her go back to the park a total of seven times the next month and he doesn’t see Issei once. He tells his mother that’s the one thing he’ll never forgive her for, and she apologizes absently.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>✵</p><p> </p><p>They move from Tokyo to Miyagi when he’s eight.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>✵</p><p> </p><p>He picks the black and orange high school newsletter over the teal and gold one, and their uniforms are really cool.</p><p> </p><p>He becomes best friends with Sugawara Koushi, who’s a class ahead of him but still wheedles Takahiro into tutoring him in English every week. He joins the volleyball team alongside him, but it’s small so he gets time to focus on his art club. He dyes his hair bright bubblegum pink and his father leaves when he comes out and his mother remains distant.</p><p> </p><p>In third year, he drops volleyball entirely.</p><p> </p><p>Koushi goes to nationals with the team and Takahiro cheers him on at home, and goes to their practices and makes friends with the juniors. He becomes close friends with Kiyoko and the first year Hitoka. He teases both of them about their obvious crushes and they both deny it, red faces, every time.</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro gets a boyfriend, and he’s not funny, and he doesn’t watch action movies. He breaks up with him. He doesn’t fit right, and neither does the next, or the next. Koushi tells him his standards are high, and Takahiro tells him that people in long term relationships aren’t allowed to comment.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>✵</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro graduates. He gets into the art focused university in Tokyo he’d always wanted to go to.</p><p> </p><p>He arrives in Tokyo and he doesn’t go to the park.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>✵</p><p> </p><p>He rooms with Konoha Akinori and they get close quickly, bonding over music taste and shared senses of humor and a whole shitton of other similarities. He takes the visual art course and his professor loves him and his four years at university are loud and fun and he’s never alone for too long.</p><p> </p><p>He graduates and Yuki-nee takes a billion pictures and his mom doesn’t show and he buys his sisters dinner at his favorite hole in the wall.</p><p> </p><p>He gets his own apartment in the city.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>✵</p><p> </p><p>Of course he remembers the park.</p><p> </p><p>He could never forget it.</p><p> </p><p>He puts it off until he’s already in his apartment and has his own job at a local art store as he works on his portfolio and his friends have their own jobs.</p><p> </p><p>He has no excuse anymore, and even though it’s hopeless and stupid, he wants to go so badly that he dreams about it.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>✵</p><p> </p><p>He goes to the park in the summer, and in June, the same month he’d gone that first time.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>✵</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro is twenty six and he sits in the swing, fingers wrapped around a spot he automatically reaches for.</p><p> </p><p>He’s glad it wasn’t the seesaw or the sandbox or the slide, because the seesaw always goes down and he hates sharing, and the sandbox is full of <em>sand </em>and makes his sensitive skin itchy, and the slide is always crawling with kid-germs.</p><p> </p><p>His feet kick idly at the sand. The sun is evening golden orange and warm and lovely. He hears grass crunching.</p><p> </p><p>A shadow falls across him.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>✵</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro looks up, and god, god, god he’s not even surprised.</p><p> </p><p>Brown skin and dark curls and pretty eyes look down at him, and he’s taller and broader because of course he is, and he looks completely and utterly delighted.</p><p> </p><p>‘It’s you,’ Takahiro says quietly.</p><p> </p><p>‘It’s me,’ he agrees.</p><p> </p><p>‘What’s your name again?’ Takahiro teases, and he crouches down because the swing is low and he’s <em>so tall, </em>and he replies slowly, ‘Wow. Holy fuck. That’s crazy.’</p><p> </p><p>‘What.’</p><p> </p><p>‘You are the exact same height as you were when you were seven.’</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro shoves him hard and he laughs and he doesn’t even budge.</p><p> </p><p>His laugh is deep and rich and lovely, and Takahiro can’t help but beam at him.</p><p> </p><p>‘God, I missed you,’ he says, smiling, and Takahiro flushes.</p><p> </p><p>‘I missed you too,’ he admits.</p><p> </p><p>The wind is a gentle breeze and ruffles Issei’s curls. His hair is shorter, an undercut, sides shaved but his fringe still falls into his pretty, dark eyes. His skin is orange sunset golden.</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro could stare for hours and not get bored.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>✵</p><p> </p><p>‘Hey,’ Issei whispers.</p><p> </p><p>‘What,’ Takahiro says.</p><p> </p><p>‘Hey, hey, hey,’ he repeats.</p><p> </p><p>‘What do you <em>want, </em>Issei,’ and he smiles so wide, so wide.</p><p> </p><p>‘I can’t believe you never called,’ he says, and Takahiro says, ‘Oh my god, fuck you and go to hell, I cried for so fucking long-‘</p><p> </p><p>‘So did <em>I!’ </em>he cries out, broad smile splitting his face and his dimples are back, they’re so cute, he’s so cute. ‘You never fuckin’ called-‘</p><p> </p><p>‘My mom lost the fucking card-‘</p><p> </p><p>‘-oh, you should have written it down yourself, you bitch-‘</p><p> </p><p>‘She <em>lost the card </em>and I was <em>seven </em>and then we <em>moved-‘</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>‘-excuses, excuses-‘</p><p> </p><p>‘-I’ll fucking kill you, you son of a bitch-‘</p><p>
  
</p><p>‘-imagine how I felt, Takahiro, seven years old and waiting for years and my soulmate <em>lost, </em>I was so heartbroken<em>-‘</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>‘-you’re fucking horrible it was the same for me-‘</p><p>
  
</p><p>‘Just <em>say</em> you hate me, Takahiro,’ he says mournfully, and Takahiro cups his face and he goes still.</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro feels goosebumps at the first touch, and he feels Issei tremble, just a bit, right before his shoulders relax and he leans into the touch.</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro gently presses his thumbs into his dimples, and tugs his face close, because he doesn’t think Issei will stop him.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t. He goes easily, arms coming up and he’s fucking built and broad and he’s in a goddamn Spiderman t-shirt like it’s fate, like it’s insane, this is insane, and his hands wrap over the swing chain where Takahiro’s fingers just were.</p><p> </p><p>‘Issei,’ Takahiro murmurs. Their faces are close, inches between their mouths, and Issei’s cheeks are darker than before.</p><p> </p><p>‘Yeah,’ he says, voice hoarse and low.</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro whispers, ‘I hate you,’ and closes the distance and kisses him on his laughing red mouth.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>✵</p><p> </p><p>Issei sighs into his mouth, and stays there, crouched in front of Takahiro on the swing, and kisses back softly, gently, perfectly.</p><p> </p><p>His mouth slides to the side and his hand comes down to cup the back of Takahiro’s head and adjusts the angle and Takahiro lets out a small, embarrassing noise.</p><p> </p><p>His mouth is warm and soft and lovely.</p><p> </p><p>They pull back and stare at each other, breathless.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>✵</p><p> </p><p>‘Ooh, you’re a shit kisser,’ Takahiro says.</p><p> </p><p>‘You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met,’ Issei replies, and his thumb catches Takahiro’s bottom lip. Takahiro flushes as Issei pokes at his mouth, slightly wet from the kiss.</p><p> </p><p>‘Your mouth,’ Issei says after a beat, still crouching in front of him, still holding onto one swing chain, and still thumbing his lip, long fingers curled around the side of his neck.</p><p> </p><p>‘Your mouth,’ he repeats, ‘is what I was probably looking at most, back then.’</p><p> </p><p>‘You were a very stupid child,’ Takahiro tells him, ‘but probably smarter than you are now.’</p><p> </p><p>‘It’s true,’ Issei agrees. ‘I was so smart. I made you laugh.’</p><p> </p><p>‘Just the once,’ Takahiro says, and he grins broadly.</p><p> </p><p>‘It’s okay,’ he says easy and low. ‘I have time now.’</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro’s nose gets itchy and his eyes go a little wet. He swallows.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>✵</p><p> </p><p>Issei’s eyes go soft, and he says sort of helplessly, ‘Oh, <em>baby</em>,’ and leans in and kisses him again.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>✵</p><p> </p><p>They split apart but stay just as close, sharing the same breath. Takahiro never wants to be parted from him again.<br/>
<br/>
‘I was probably staring at your mouth most, too,’ Takahiro says softly. ‘You were smiling a lot.’</p><p> </p><p>‘I don’t smile that much,’ Issei says. ‘It’s just with you, I think.’</p><p> </p><p>He pauses, and then says, voice barely a whisper, ‘You make me happy. Isn’t this- isn’t this crazy?’</p><p> </p><p>‘Hm,’ Takahiro says. ‘Yeah it is. It’s okay though.’</p><p> </p><p>Issei grins, wide and wide and wide.</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro kisses him again.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>✵</p><p> </p><p>‘Oh my god,’ Takahiro says when they split from another long, long moment of kissing. ‘What the hell are you even doing here.’</p><p> </p><p>Issei coughs, and turns his head away slightly. ‘Ah, that’s a little embarrassing.’</p><p> </p><p>‘Issei,’ he says, and he groans.</p><p> </p><p>‘So- man, fine, I come here, alright.’</p><p> </p><p>‘Here?’ Takahiro repeats, smile widening.</p><p> </p><p>‘Yes,’ he says, cheeks dark and flushed. ‘I come to this park. A lot.’</p><p> </p><p>‘Why’s that, babe,’ Takahiro says, hopelessly endeared.</p><p> </p><p>‘Because, <em>babe,’ </em> Issei says, eyes darting away and so adorably flustered. ‘Because <em>you.’</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>‘Because me.’</p><p> </p><p>‘Because you.’</p><p> </p><p>‘You,’ Takahiro says, ‘are stupidly romantic.’</p><p> </p><p>Issei nods, and his thumb strokes Takahiro’s bottom lip and Takahiro knows he’s trying to fluster him and he laughs, loud and pleased.</p><p> </p><p>‘Issei,’ he whispers.</p><p> </p><p>‘Yeah,’ he replies, cheeks still flushed.</p><p> </p><p>‘Issei, listen.’</p><p> </p><p>‘’m listening, sweetheart.’ His thumb presses into the corner of Takahiro’s mouth.</p><p> </p><p>‘I probably love you,’ Takahiro tells him.</p><p> </p><p>Issei grins, wide and beaming and helpless.</p><p> </p><p>‘I probably love you too.’</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>✵</p><p> </p><p>Issei lives in Tokyo. He did volleyball too, but only in his third year, which is stupidly ironic considering Takahiro dropped it in his third year. He’s a mortician, and he runs the business, and his house is two blocks from the park.</p><p> </p><p>Takahiro moves in within the month.</p><p> </p><p>He believes in soulmates and ships in the night and missed connections.</p><p> </p><p>He rolls on top of Issei in their shared bed in the morning light and straddles his hips, leans down to kiss his mouth, laughing at a bad joke Takahiro had made.</p><p> </p><p>He thinks the universe wanted them to meet again.</p><p> </p><p>He’s really fucking grateful, he tells Issei as he pulls back.</p><p> </p><p>Issei, leaning on his elbows and beaming up at Takahiro, sunlight dappling his bare chest, tells him he’s really grateful too.</p><p> </p><p>He kisses him again. He’s the king of the world.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>my <a href="https://twitter.com/caandlelit">twitter,</a>, my <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/74RiRixmdIovsGnL2MWewq?si=GISzJ981QvmgWMdvbsuPsA">matsuhana playlist</a><br/></p></blockquote></div></div>
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